


What are you playing at?

by samooshka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28173570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samooshka/pseuds/samooshka
Summary: Elle Hawkins is a shy girl who lives in a small apartment above her family's shop in Diagon Alley. She does not do very much besides hang out with her two best friends Theo and Willow and prefers to snuggle up with her pet cat Ash while she binds sketchbooks, watches films and drinks an obscene amount of butterbeer. But Elle has always had a secret. Perhaps one that is not very well kept. She's in love with George Weasley and she has been for years. When she lands a detention with his brother who promises to help her learn how to talk with him will she get closer to Fred and lose feelings for George? Or will her feelings fade entirely when their time together ends. With the Yule Ball happening that Christmas, Elle and her friends scramble for dates. When a new boy from the Durmstrang Institute captures her eye, the only problem for Elle is figuring out who to ask.
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s)





	1. Hawk(ins) Quills and More

I was shopping alone this year. Do not get me wrong, I loved spending time alone, but my parents and I had a tradition of going to Diagon Alley together to purchase supplies for the upcoming school year.

I had been looking forward to it all summer, after I had spent almost everyday in the corner of my twin sized bed, bundles of parchment sitting on my lap as I worked on binding sketchbooks that I sold to pay for my daily butter beers from the Leaky Cauldron. I was obsessed with the drink, and although I knew it was bad to consume that much sugar, I ensured that I made space for it in my diet.

I wanted to go shopping with my parents, not only because it was a tradition but because they would do all the talking, which meant I could hide out in the corner, ogling the different trinkets in many of the stores that I could not afford to buy. I was not socially anxious, at least not as much as some of my friends, but I was still an awkward teenager. I would find myself stumbling over my words, or speaking in too quiet of a voice for people to understand.

But, I suppose everybody needs to grow up someday and I suppose today was the day. Both of my parents were working today. My father worked at the Ministry of Magic as an Auror, while my mother owned the shop in Diagon Alley that our small flat sat on top of.

I shoved myself off of my small bed and walked around my tiny room. There was not much I needed to do to prepare for my day other than get dressed, and so I did just that. I put on a tight white turtle neck t-shirt before layering a dark aztec printed midi straight cut dress overtop. Looking in the mirror, I brushed out my long dark brown curly hair as I stared myself in the eyes.

I hated how I looked. It was not that I thought I was ugly, as sometimes I caught myself at certain angles that even surprised me, but when I gazed at my face straight on I always found myself disappointed. My eyes were dark, the colour of chocolate, and unlike the majority of my classmates who had porcelain coloured skin, my skin was tanned and olive coloured. It was the product of being mixed race, my mother was Korean while my father was English.

That being said, I resembled both of them equally. My eyes were narrowed, hooded and almond shaped. They were upwardly turned and while that elongated my face, the combination of that and my down turned lips made me appear as though I was always frowning. I had my father's nose, a feature of which I was always insecure about. My nose bridge was softer than his, but still remained high and prominent on my face. My nose stuck out, at least I thought it did, and I hated it.

I snapped myself out of my own trance, and gathered a few pieces of jewellery in my hand to layer over my neck. I stuck some rings on my long fingers.

Outside of my window, the chattering of eager children and their parents filled my ears. I crawled over my bed and moved the curtain to the side, creating a gap for me to look through. Diagon Alley had come to life.

The cobblestone streets were no longer barren, but instead full of life, literally. People were crammed in every corner, their robes taking up perhaps too much space, as everyone waddles through the streets their children running ahead to look through the windows of every shop in sight. It was easy to tell which children were going to be first years and which weren't, as they unlike the others, were awkwardly hanging around their parents.

I remembered how it felt. I had grown up in Diagon Alley, but it did not mean I was less anxious than the other incoming first years. I remember hanging around my mother, holding onto her fingers with my hand as we walked behind the other wizards. I was terribly anxious, but at the same time excited. I had gotten my first wand, been fitted for my robes, and was even gifted a cat to bring with me.

A smile curled onto my face as I looked up and down the streets. I loved my home, and although this crowd made me slightly nervous, the excitement of going back to school outweighed those emotions.

My excitement, however, was quickly diluted when my eyes caught onto a certain family. Coming out from the Leaky Cauldron was the person I both feared and admired the most. I watched as he shuffled alongside his brothers and sister, him towering over every other wizard he passed. He had a devilishly attractive smirk on his face, as him and his brother smiled at each other. They were plotting something, but I was not surprised. This was George Weasley after all.

His flaming orange locks had been spiked upwards, whether by some mistake or intention it was unknown to me, but it exposed his square forehead. His eyes, unlike his smile, were soft and full of kindness. They had always held a sort of maturity to them, and although I had never spoken to him we had made awkward eye contact several times.

A soft meow coming from my doorway pulled me from my fantasy and I quickly turned my head to see my cat, Ash, standing there. He was looking up at me, his green eyes covered by his wide black pupils. His black tail was stuck up, and he tilted his head as though he were waiting for me to come and scoop him up into his arms. I smiled and hopped over to him. I bent down and rubbed the top of his head. He leaned into my scratches, his purrs creating a low vibration in the pit of silence that was my flat.

Ash was scarily clingy, but I'm not sure my behaviour helped in a positive way. I often brought him everywhere. My mother joked that we were the perfect stereotype: a witch and a black cat.

"I've got to go," I told him, my fingers scratching into his chin.

He did not seem to understand what I was saying, but laid down in a way that suggested he was ready to play. I felt bad that I was leaving him, but I had stuff to do.

I looked back towards the window, and leaned backwards so I could see through the slit I had made with the curtains. The Weasley family had disappeared. I sighed, and felt a yearning in my heart. I was disappointed, and for what reason? George did not even know I existed. There was no chance for us. He was only a year older than I was, sure, but we were opposites. I was a goodie two shoes Hufflepuff, he was a no-good prankster in Gryffindor. Heck, I had more of a chance with Cedric Diggory than George Weasley and I had absolutely no chance with him either!

Feeling disheartened, I pulled my tote bag from the hook on my wardrobe and grabbed onto my opened Hogwarts letter that was sitting on the table in room which I used as both a desk and vanity. I needed quite a few things for school this year, and it was going to be a busy one. Not only did I have to do my O.W.Ls, but I had heard that there would be an event called the Tri-Wizard Cup. I had no idea what this meant, but I knew that even if I were given the chance I would not be participating. I would much rather bind my books, or hang out with my friends Willow and Theo.

Giving Ash one more scratch on his chin, I kissed the top of his head before I shoved my feet into a pair of plain black ankle socks with small yellow stars dotted around the fabric, and then into my beat up pair of oxford shoes. I tied the laces, my fingers fumbling over themselves as I looped my laces together using the bunny ears method. I was fifteen now, but I still tied my laces like I did when I was five.

I passed the threshold of my bedroom as I exited into the stuffy common area of my family's flat. It was cluttered, with tons of books crammed into small bookshelves and other pieces of junk laying around. Our shop was a supplies store. We sold quills, ink, parchment, and many other stationary items. The best part of having a shop that sold writing supplies, was that I had a place to easily sell my journals and sketchbooks. It was one of the main reasons why I spent most of my time book binding, as the more books I made, the more they sold, which only contributed to my already severe sugar addiction.

Just downstairs, I could hear people's voices carrying up through the staircase as they moved around the shop. The bell rung as the door opened, and I quickly finished gathering my things before running down the stairs and into the shop. I recognized many of the people wandering around, as many were students at Hogwarts.

"Ellie!" My mother called out from behind the counter.

I waved at her slightly, a small smile on my face as I wandered over to her. My mother was a short and thin woman, two traits I had not gotten from her. As I approached her, our difference in heights became more prominent as I stood at least a head taller than she did. My mother, despite her age, looked quite youthful. She had long dark hair that had little to no grey streaks, slanted and small dark brown eyes, and tanned coloured skin. She was beautiful, at least I thought she was, and upon first glance you would never believe she was almost 60 years old. My parents had, had me quite late during their lives, as they had only met twenty five years ago. But still, they were soulmates and if you asked anyone they knew they would agree.

"Hi Mum," I said, my voice quiet and soft.

She was happy to see me, but was rushing due to the sheer amount of customers in the shop. "Ellie," she said referring to me by my nickname, "take some galleons, and buy yourself something nice for the year."

She held out her hand, and out of thin air a small drawstring pouch made of navy blue velvet material appeared above me. I reacted quickly, catching it in my hand as gravity caught it and pushed it down towards the ground. I smiled at my mother in thanks before her attention was carried away by a customer who wanted to know the make of a specific type of quill we sold. There was no more time to spare, and I was eager to begin shopping for my new school year. My excitement was mostly surrounding the new supplies I would be able to buy rather than going to school itself. I enjoyed my time there, and I was excited to see Willow and Marlow again but like most teenagers I was not the biggest fan of school.

My hand took hold of the old golden door handle, and I twisted it to open the front door of the shop. The bell rung as I stepped outside, and I was immediately greeted by a blast of the humid English heat. It took over my body, encompassing every inch of my skin in a warm wet invisible blanket of steam.  I will definitely be needing a butterbeer to cool off , I thought to myself as I closed the door to my family's shop. I stepped out into the middle of the streets, and turned to face the building where I had just exited from. I glanced up, and used my hand a shield to protect myself from the glare of the sun as I looked up at the old wooden sign that hung just above the awning. In big, bold, black painted letters read:

HAWK(ins) QUILLS AND MORE

I chuckled to myself as I read the name. When my mother first expressed interest at owning a store, my father suggested she use his last name as you could make a pun out of it. My father was like that. A clever man who rarely spoke but when he did it was always memorable.

I turned around to begin walking, when I felt myself crash into a wall. I stumbled backwards, tripping over myself before the wall reached out and grabbed me? I furrowed my brows, my mind confused as I begun to process what had happened when I glanced upwards, my face squinted as I tried to block out the sun. Standing in front of me was ... FRED WEASLEY!?


	2. Diagon Alley

Standing in front of me was ... FRED WEASLEY!?

I felt myself begin to panic, and quickly pulled myself together. I stood up on my own, and caught my tote bag from slipping off of my shoulder. My stomach was turning over itself, sweat was forming at my brow, and I felt like I was going to vomit. What should I say to him? Hello? Thanks for catching me? Sorry, thought you were a wall?? My mind was racing, but not faster than my heart was pounding.

"You alright there?" He asked me, his voice full of concern.

I looked up at him, and found that his dark eyes were staring towards me. His eyebrows were raised to the top of his forehead, as though he were waiting for a response.

"Fine, thank you," I replied, quickly.

He smirked, "I recognize you. You're in Hufflepuff house, right?"

I blushed. Not because I was flattered he knew what house I was in, but because I was embarrassed. My face grew hotter, and the beads of sweat on my forehead grew larger. Quickly, I felt insecure about them. I was worried they were noticeable, and that he would see me sweating. Or worse, that my bangs had stuck to my forehead, giving it away that I was sweating like a pig under the beam of the English sun. Would he think I was sweating because of him? My eyes averted his gaze, and I gulped as I began to play with my fingers. Perhaps I had lied earlier when I said I was not socially anxious.

"Yeah," my voice came out soft, and I took a quick peak to see if he was judging me.

He did not seem to care, but kept the same smirk plastered on his face. He raised his hand, his long finger extended as he pointed at me, as though he was realizing something. I, on the other hand, was freaking about over how large his hands were. "You bind books, don't you?" He questioned.

I stood in front of him dumbfounded. How could he know this about me? It was not like we had ever spoken before, or shared classed, or shared a common room for him to see me binding in the afternoons. More importantly, he was not one to spend his afternoons in the library, where I often found myself curled up in a corner, Willow reading by my side while Ash sat nearby as I carefully stitched my signatures together.

"I, uh ... Yeah, that's me," I said, tripping over my words.

Fred could tell I was nervous, but he did not comment on it. I had heard the Weasley's were polite, and I was thankful that they were. Don't get me wrong, I was both terrified and infatuated by them. They were by far one of the most popular families at Hogwarts, and of course Ron being best friends with the Harry Potter did not help their case in the slightest. They were terrifying. A close knit group of people that felt almost impossible to penetrate. The Weasley twins were perhaps the scariest to me. Me fancying George did not help this in the slightest, as whenever I looked at Fred all I thought about was George, but their reputation for being troublemakers and jokesters made my stomach turn into butterflies. I might have been a goodie two shoes, but it did not mean I wouldn't find bad boys attractive.

"Don't look so nervous," he laughed, "I saw you once in the Hogs Head, you looked quite busy too."

Of course he had seen me there. I had forgotten about my stint at the Hogs Head last year during the winter. I would walk down on the weekends with a bundle of book making supplies and drink butterbeer all day as I worked on getting a head start on my christmas and summer journals. Book binding had taken over my entire life, so much so that I had not even noticed the Weasley twins being inside at all.

"Oh, right, of course," I replied.

A woman's voice called Fred's name in the distance, and both of us looked over to see his family standing there. A group of seven people stood crowded by the door of one of the shop next to mine. Five of which had flaming orange hair, the other two brunettes — Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Fred looked back to me and smiled slightly, "better watch where you're going. That could get you into trouble one day."

He walked off without another word, and I was left staring at him as he returned to his family. He squished through the crowd, and just before he exited field of vision I swore I saw him mumble something to George who looked over at me before eyeing me up and down. My face grew hotter. I could tell I was now blushing intensely, this time out of embarrassment and flattery that George Weasley had just looked at me. That George Weasley had just looked at me in that way. I was in shock, and I rushed down the streets to head to my first shop before anybody could see the stupid smile that spread across my face.

My heart was pounding in my chest, my stomach was in a knot, and my finger tips had gone numb with anxiety. I felt a rush of a feeling I had never felt before. Was it joy? Fear? It was something I was unable to name but sat in my chest and made my entire body warm. I was excited almost. It felt sad, that a simple look from a boy I did not even know could make me feel this way, but it truly was not my fault. I had been infatuated with George since the very first day I walked into Hogwarts, when I first saw him sitting at the Gryffindor table when I marched up to get sorted into my hat. He was sat, next to his brother, his chin rested upon his fist as he gazed off into the distance, looking bored out of his mind. He was in second year then, and while he had changed greatly, my feelings for him had remained consistent.

But, I suppose right now was not the time to be fangirling over a boy who probably did not even know my name. I had better things to be doing, like getting fitted for new robes since I had grown and my skirt now barely reached midway down my thigh. Or, buying new shoes, since Ash had found my mary janes and decided they would be his afternoon snack.

I quickened my pace and wandered into each of the different shops I had on my list, picking up the items I needed for the school year. I got bag after bag, each full of goodies and supplies, and soon enough I was sweating from having to carry everything in my arms. I had decided to skip out on buying myself something, and to save the Galleons my mother had given me for something special. I debated dropping by my flat, to drop off some of the things I had, but figured there was only one more shop I needed to go to complete everything on my list.

I wandered towards it, and took comfort in the fact that the mid-day rush of Diagon Alley was over. I had not realized how long it had been as I shopped, but figured that I must have been in Madam Malkin's for at least an hour as there had been a long line of students waiting to get their uniforms. Not only that, but a few clouds had begun to drift over the sun, blocking out some of the powerful rays that were contributing to the buckets of sweat forming on my forehead.

I arrived at the shop before me and took a deep breath as I looked up at the sign.

FLOURISH AND BLOTTS

I pulled out my list and looked at all the required books I needed to buy. Luckily, I only needed two, and I was glad as my arms were already quite sore. My flat was only a few minutes away, as it was just down the road, so I would not need to go far after I finished shopping to drop off my things. I could almost taste the butterbeer in my mouth, and smiled as I pushed the door open. I was refreshed with a breeze of cool air. Flourish and Blotts was always freezing cold. on purpose. The manager, an old wizard who's name constantly escaped me, was always going on about how much better it was for the books to be kept in cool air. I had never found a difference, as my journals did well in all temperatures, but I assumed he was speaking about the old books he had such as the rare copies of Merlin's writing he kept locked up in a glass display case.

I stepped inside the shop, and left my bags in a corner before I began to slowly move around my eyes scanning the spines of the books as I attempted to locate everything I needed. The first book I found was The Standard Book of Spells Grade 5 by Miranda Goshawk. It was sitting in the middle of one to the shelves, and I took hold of the red coloured spine before pulling it out from in between the other books. The other books shifted in its absence but it left no gap, as the shelves were packed so tightly the books must have been shoved in by magic.

The second book on my list was Defensive Magic Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard. I stalked around the shop, being careful to avoid bumping into any of the other wizards inside as I looked for the book. It was nowhere to be found, and I was becoming worried that I would have to ask somebody to help me find it. Luckily enough, a copy of it caught me eye. The only issue, was that it sat on the top shelf of a book shelf. Despite my taller than average height, I was not tall enough to reach this. I stood on my tiptoes and stretched out my arm as I groaned, my fingers extended to their fullest ability as I desperately tried to grasp even the side of it. Before I knew it an arm rose above my head, and a golden dark brown hand pulled the book I was reaching for out of the shelf.

I turned around quickly, and immediately a smile spread onto my face.

"Theo!" I shouted, wrapping my arms around him as I pulled him into a hug.

I could feel him surprised, but he returned the favour, wrapping his arms around me as he rested his head ontop of mine. I broke the hug to look up at him. Theo had grown over the summer. He had always been taller, but not so tall that I felt short beside him. Today, I felt short beside him. Other than his height, he had not changed one bit over the summer. His skin had darkened slightly, most likely from a tan he had gotten from his vacation to Jamaica, a place he described as "wonderful but full of annoying family members" in his letters that he had written to me. His features were all the same, topaline coloured eyes, a button nose, and a medium sized lips.

"You look the same," he said to me, his voice slightly deeper than it had been only a year ago.

"You've gotten taller," I retaliated, "and your voice has gotten deeper."

"Has it?" He questioned, his eyebrows furrowing to narrow his large eyes.

I nodded and reached up to take the book from him. He gave it to me without a fight, and I shoved it underneath my arm as I gathered my composure. "I'm surprised to see you so early," I admitted, "I thought I would only see you on the train with Willow."

Just the mention of Willow's name made him seem uneasy. His hand moved to his neck and he rubbed it anxiously. I began to worry that something was wrong, as though he had some bad news to share with me. He had spent all summer in Jamaica. Had something happened between them? Had someone said something insensitive in a letter? I had been in communication with both of them this entire time and neither of them had mentioned anything wrong.

"Theo, what's wrong?" I questioned. "Did something happen?"

He sighed, his lips folding in wards to create a look of disappointment. Quickly, he shook his head.

"Nothing happened. It's just ..." he trailed off, his eyes glazing over as he looked away. I could tell he was debating whether or not he wanted to reveal whatever was troubling him to me. I did not want to push him, but I would be lying if I said I did not want to know what it was. "It's nothing," He finally said, easing the tension in the air.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Positive."

He shot me a smile, but I could tell it was fake. Either way I knew he would share what it was with me when he was ready. The two of us stood in line and waited to pay for our books as we talked more about what we did. We shared what we were excited for this coming school year, and the rumours about there being a special event. Theo had hopes of entering whatever it was, while I teased him about being an over achiever. I was not wrong, as he was always sucking up to the professors. His methods may have been questionable, but he pulled straight E's so who was I to judge.

After paying for our books, I invited him to get butterbeer with me, an offer he refused as he had to return to his confused parents. Theo was a muggle born, and although he was old enough to navigate Diagon Alley on his own, his parents enjoyed coming. I thought it was hilarious. They acted like tourists in New York City (at least that's what Theo said), and it brought a smile to my face just thinking about how embarrassed he felt of them. This was not a bad thing, rather I thought it was quite endearing.

But more importantly than that, I was more than excited to sit down at the Leaky Cauldron and enjoy a butterbeer — which is exactly what I did.


End file.
